On the sacred scroll of glory
Let us blazon forth the story
Of a brave Canadian woman, with the fervid pen of fame,
So that all the world may read it,
So that every heart may heed it,
And rehearse it through the ages to the honor of her name.
In the far-off days of battle,
When the muskets’ rapid rattle
Far re-echoed through the forest, Laura Secord sped along
Deep into the woodland mazy,
Over pathways wild and hazy,
With a firm and fearless footstep and a courage staunch and strong.
She had heard the host preparing,
And at once with dauntless daring
Hurried off to give the warning of the fast-advancing foe ;
And she flitted like a shadow
Far away o’er fen and meadow,
Where the wolf was in the wildwood, and the lynx was lying low.
From within the wild recesses
Of the tangled wildernesses
Sounds mysterious pursued her ‘long the winding forest way,
And she heard the gutt’ral growling
Of the bears, that, near her prowling,
Crushed their course through coverts gloomy with their cubs in noisy play.
Far and near the hideous whooping
Of the painted Indians, trooping
For the foray, pealed upon her with a weird, unearthly sound,
While great snakes went gliding past her
As she sped on fast and faster,
And disaster on disaster seemed to threaten all around.
Thus for twenty miles she travelled
Over pathways rough and ravelled,
Braving danger for her country like the fabled ones of yore.
Till she reached her destination,
And forewarned the threatened station
Of the wave that was advancing to engulf it deep in gore.
Just in time the welcome warning
Came unto the men, that, scorning
To retire before the foemen, rallied ready for the fray,
And they gave such gallant greeting,
That the foe was soon retreating
Back in wild dismay and terror on that glorious battle-day.
Few returned to tell the story
Of the conflict sharp and gory
That was won with brilliant glory by that brave Canadian band,
For the host of prisoners captured
Far outnumbered the enraptured
Little group of gallant soldiers fighting for their native land.
Braver acts are not recorded
In historic treasures hoarded,
Than the march of Laura Secord through the forest long ago,
And no nobler deed of daring
Than the cool and crafty snaring
By the band at Beaver Dam of all that well-appointed foe.
But we know if war should ever
Rage again o’er field or river,
And the hordes of the invader should appear within our land,
Far and wide the trumpets pealing
Would awake the same old feeling,
And again would deeds of daring sparkle out on every hand.
Source: Charles Edwin Jakeway. The Lion and the Lilies: A Tale of the Conquest and Other Poems. Toronto: William Briggs, 1897
This poem is discussed in Episode 2 of the Niagara Falls History and Poetry podcast
The death notice of Charles Edwin Jakeway published in the Barrie Examiner March 8, 1906 from Find a Grave
I am living within a couple of miles of the Laura Secord home. History like poetry is relevant to all who pay attention to it.